Døddronning
by KorvaCthonic
Summary: Dying and waking the moment Hela's prison disintegrates, the new Queen of Death struggles between homicidal rage, her new conscience, and the idiotic Titan she and her brothers have to obliterate. Botched reincarnations for the win! Self Insert SI
1. Chapter 1

**Okay people, I'm doing a rewrite of these two chapters. Just so you know.**

* * *

My eyes snapped open to a dark sky. Huh. I was dead, wasn't I?

I'd crashed headfirst into a brick building in a rare moment of complete and utter stupidity, wanting to check a text message on my phone. The next thing I knew, red bricks were hurtling at me as they plunged through the shattered window, braining me hard and breaking everything. There was so much pain, my vision stained red and tears pouring as I choked on my own blood, slowly dying. Mercifully, the rest of the wall had collapsed on top of me before it could get any worse.

And I hadn't even gotten to see the text!

At any rate, the afterlife had an interesting color scheme. All around me was a rocky crag that jutted up randomly like swords. The more distant ones vanished behind a haze of dense fog that seemed to prevent even the dim lighting from penetrating. All in all, it was a pretty eerie sight.

And I was alone in it, no God greeting me on his throne with pearly gates, or even some good ol' hellfire and demons. I scowled, very unimpressed with my afterlife. Pop culture lied to me! Even being reincarnated probably would've been better than this, unless the Hindus were wrong too.

"Is there anyone here?!" I called out irritably, only to stop, eyes widening at my voice, or more accurately, the voice of some other woman.

My gaze fell to a pair of trembling hands in front of me, a pale white instead of my normally olive skin tone. The nails were coated in iridescent green and black polish, masterfully manicured in a way that I'd never been able to do.

It seemed like reincarnation wasn't too far off the mark after all.

Numbly, I lowered my gaze to the rest of the body that I wasn't supposed to be in. A black and green bodysuit, long black hair, and a super sexy with curves any woman would kill for in my last life. It triggered something in my mind, and-

-"Hela, my daughter, make me proud."-

-blood gushing through the air as it sung in my veins from the rush of battle-

-"Father, but WHY? For so long we were the rulers of all the nine realms, it's rightful conquerors! For what reason should we change what has worked for millennia?"-

-"You wish to lock me away and pretend this chapter of our history never happened?! To deny me the throne that for so long, you told me would one day be mine? I won't go quietly, you hypocritical old man!"-

-memories flooded into my head of over a thousand years of battle and war, sending me stumbling to the stone beneath me, clutching my skull. My breathing hitched in utter confusion.

The emotions echoed as I viewed the onslaught of memories, feelings of pride, love and eventually the heart shattering betrayal she'd felt as Odin finally banished the goddess. An anger burned within me at the thought, the urge to punch the old fart right in the face strong.

Wait. Wait a second. Did I just get her daddy issues? And homicidal rage at said father?

I mentally chucked the excess memories into the corner of my mind like a hot potato, suddenly too afraid to look any more. Would they overwhelm me and subsume me if I did? I was a human, not even in my mind twenties, faced with the memories of a being far more ancient and powerful than I was.

Oh Norns this was bad. This was very very bad. This whole situation seemed like the Fates were laughing at my expense or something.

Suddenly aware of how short my breaths were becoming, I went into a meditative pose on the ground, paying close attention to my breaths. When I picked it up to learn to control my anxiety, I never thought it would be used like this.

This situation was out of control. What was in my control? Hela's- my magic. My breathing. My thoughts. Or maybe not that last one, with the memory thing, but still!

Breathing. One to ten. Count the breaths. Long breaths. I am in control. My thundering heart eventually slowed with the shaking of my limbs to a dull tremble. Breathe.

Think. Who are you now? What are you now?

I am me, I am in control. I am Tori Chambers, college student, a bit airheaded and absentminded at times, but filled with a determination to see my goals through to the end. Anxious at times, sure, but I've taken measures to moderate that. Kind of a Marvel fan. But…

I am also Hela Odindottir, conqueror of the Nine Realms beside my father and Executioner of Asgard. Proud, tenacious and a warrior that enjoys the rush of battle. Sure of myself always, and as firstborn, heir to the throne. And slayer of many.

Both and yet neither at the same time. A new creature.

Ever so gently, I pulled back the memories and bit by bit, relived the thousand years of life now embedded in my head. Sweat dripped down my brow as I struggled to keep my breathing steady once more, with scenes of carnage and bloodshed playing back.

My human side screamed in anguish for all the lives taken in all the bloody conquests. My Hela side merely looked on in satisfaction and pride at a battle well fought. Disgust warred with apathy, my head roaring between the two until I could finally do nothing but shudder and vomit bile onto the emerald floor.

I don't know how long I sat there, trying to piece myself together. In the end, it was a violent mishmash of two personalities that were way too different to coexist without conflicting. Which was just fantastic!

Somehow. I blame the Norns. A sudden urge to stab them made my fingers twitch violently. A bad habit that I'd probably have to curb somehow.

And now I just had to wait for Odin to die to get out of here, round up a team, an army of zombies, and kill a Titan. While simultaneously not losing my fragile mind to solitary confinement or the traumatizing memories in my head that even if I didn't want to think about them, were still there. Just great.

I scowled and started fidgeting with a conjured sword. Then a weak moaning noise sounded behind me, sending ice shooting up my spine. A glance over my shoulder made me freeze.

A ghost drifted behind me, it's pale and wispy soul hovering menacingly. "Meeeargh…?"

The sword phased through its head and thudded into the ground. Nothing happened except the phantom tilting its head in confusion. Another volley of blades followed as I jumped back and shrieked, trying to put as much distance between the thing and me as possible.

It drifted after me and I started running. The Goddess of Death reduced to this! I fumed.

* * *

More of these ghosts floated around without end, just kind of meandering without any real purpose. I'd finally escaped the one pursuing me after a while, hiding behind a series of crags. They were really creepy, invulnerable, and it irked me that I couldn't just kill them to get them to leave me alone.

At the thought I slapped my cheeks lightly, chiding myself. "No more needless killing, Hela. Remember."

At any rate, this was probably good practice for that.

My footsteps echoed off the dark rocks of Hel as I wandered ceaselessly for a place I wouldn't be disturbed, only to abruptly crash into an invisible barrier. A shock of pain alerted me to the fact that my nose was likely bruised. Annoyed, I rubbed at it and studied the wall that impeded me.

It was some sort of spell that glowed with a dim yellow light, runes scrawled across the entirety of the barrier as it rose into the sky in a sort of dome shape. I tapped it with a sword, curious. Ripples went out from the point of impact, but then reversed as the spell lashed out with a crackle of magic.

A cry escaped my throat as it shocked me onto the ground, the current traveling through my limbs and locking them in place. The pain subsided into a full numbing feeling, but I couldn't move. Some sort of paralysis.

So this was just like an electric fence, shocking me into staying obedient. I gritted my teeth in annoyance, another flare of hate coming up for Odin. I wanted to test the limits of this little prison, to spite the Allfather in whatever way I could...

But I could be patient. Eventually, he'd be dead, and I'd be home free. So instead of acting on impulse, I reigned it in, choosing to inscribe my own magic at the base of the barrier as a sort of alarm system to alert me if it fell, in addition to rigging a portal spell that could take me out as soon as it did.

And now to wait.

* * *

After days of wandering around the edge of the barrier, figuring out that my body actually didn't need food or water anymore, and evading any and all ghosts within the prison, I found a modest little cave. It was somewhat comfortable once I padded it with some spare clothes I kept in a magic space and shielded the outside with a couple dozen blades.

But there was one thing I really needed, and that was sleep. Bundled under a long cloak that had been reserved for Jotunheim, sleep wasn't coming. My green eyes stared up at the ceiling of the cave, bags undoubtedly hanging beneath them.

The quiet grated at my sanity, every tiny noise jerking me back to reality when I might've started drifting off. Nothing living was in this place but me.

I was all alone.

Small tears pricked at my eyes at the thought. My parents were gone, probably mourning. My Chiba Inu that I liked cuddling was gone. Odin and I hated each other's guts, so I didn't mind never seeing him again. Mother was dead.

Oh, and my loyal wolf Fenris was dead too. I'd never get to ride into battle on him again, share in the thrill of the hunt. He'd loved gnawing on bilgesnipe bones whenever we brought one down. And-

I bit my cheek hard to stop my wild recollections. Didn't I resolve not to dwell on the past? What's done is done. They were gone, I was still here, end of story.

But that didn't prevent the dreams of it when I finally succumbed to sleep.

* * *

"Oh, I have all my fingers

The knife goes chop chop chop

If I miss the spaces in-between my fingers will come off!" I cackled as the blade touched the emerald ground under my hand with alien agility and dexterity.

Yes, I was so bored I was resorting to something this asinine to amuse myself. My thoughts stalled momentarily as I tried to think of something better to do, but my mind blanked.

I shrugged it off and flipped the knife into my hand, lengthening it out into a full length broadsword. It swung through the air as my body fell into a practiced rhythm of swordsmanship, muscle memory guiding my movements. It was actually kind of exhilarating, my heart pounding as a slight grin crossed my face. I conjured another blade and switched to a dual wielding stance, pretending to slice and block at an enemy.

Had to stay in shape, after all.

* * *

At some point I'd written the events of Infinity War on the ground, including the locations of all the Infinity Stones. I couldn't afford to forget, or...half the universe would be gone.

Like Spiderman said in Civil War- "When you can do the things that I can, but you don't, and then the bad things happen, they happen because of you."

Nobody else could do it. No one but me. So I went over the list as many times as possible so I'd have it memorized.

* * *

I decorated my cave at some point with a myriad of fictional blades that I'd recreated, ever a fan of Man at Arms on YouTube. A replica of the Master Sword here, a few rapiers there, oh, and can't forget a few dozen battleaxes lining the walls. No cabin fever here, no siree.

And if at some point, I'd actually gone over to rant at the ghosts about my problems, that wasn't really a problem was it? It's not like I was so desperate for company that I got over my human fear of the dead just to talk.

Nope.

* * *

"Then the old man just takes my hammer and chucks me in here! Can you believe that Phil?!" I demanded hotly as I scribbled an x in a tic tac toe square. "Oh, and your move."

'Phil' the ghost gestured to an empty spot, moaning sympathetically. Or at least I thought it was. His face never really changed. "Mbleargh…"

"Aaaand you beat me," I sighed in defeat. "Wanna play chess again?"

* * *

I giggled like a little girl as a katana settled into my hand.

"Back to the past, it's Samurai Hela!" I squealed unashamedly, but frowned in disappointment as it didn't fit with the fighting style I apparently favored.

Meh. I just liked having a freaking katana. Or a Master Sword, or any number of other fictional blades. Or…

Oh, oh! I had a great idea.

I grinned as metal shot up from the ground like daisies, forming my very own Iron Throne. It hurt my behind to sit in, though, so I couldn't even imagine why anyone would want to fight over such a dysfunctional piece of furniture.

But that was apparently when Odin finally decided to kick the bucket, the ping of my alarm sounding and a portal formed directly beneath my metal chair, sending me and it toppling, shrieking, end over end onto the grassy turf of Norway.

It didn't hurt a bit, but it was humiliating to realize my brothers had seen the entire thing. My cheeks burning brightly, I stood and shoved the thing off of me. I averted my eyes, brushing off my armor indignantly. Had to make proper first impressions and all!

"Hello, brothers. I am Hela, Goddess of Death," I declared with faux self confidence, flourishing my arms in a mock curtsy. On the inside, however, I was filled with nervous tension. The first real people I'd spoken to since...forever ago.

The two tensed in preparation for battle, and my own body responded in kind without thinking, settling into a threatening stance. Thor responded first, still readying Mjolnir. "You're our sister. I wasn't expecting..."

I raised an eyebrow beneath my raven hair. "What? A hidden sibling to go with a hidden history of Asgard? Odin hid everything, it's only natural. Or is it the hair?" A hand twirled a couple locks out of my face. "Well, it is a rare trait. But to be honest, out of all of us, you'd look to be adopted, Thor."

Loki twitched in the corner of my eye at the mention of adoption.

The blonde took on a somewhat bewildered look at the mention of his name, since he clearly hadn't given it. I inwardly blanched at my slip of the tongue. "No, I actually meant the entrance you made with that strange throne of swords."

The hair in my hand was suddenly twisted nervously, my own guard suddenly down. "W-what throne?" I laughed, twitching and dispelling the swords making it. "No throne to be had here! You must be mistaken."

Thor looked on in confusion, Loki seemingly suppressing a snicker at the sight of my fumbling. But they were relaxing more, less likely to attack, and my own adrenaline settled down as well. My confidence was returning. I could do this.

"In any case, perhaps we could come to an arrangement," Loki stated, arms wide. "I am Loki, unless you also, by some miracle, also know my name?"

"Yes. Yes I do. In fact," I paused for dramatic effect, mind working quickly for a possible explanation. When in doubt, BS your way to victory. "The Norns themselves gave me a vision of the various goings outside of my prison, by some boon I don't know why they'd grant."

"I see," Loki deadpanned disbelievingly, and I simply shrugged. He was the God of Lies after all. "The Norns, hm? Putting that pathetic attempt at falsehood aside, what is it that you're after, sister dear?"

"What I'm after?" I tilted my head in thought. "Not much, at the moment. Really, I would've liked to kick Odin in the balls for all he did to me, but he's already dead. So no revenge on that front."

"You must want something," he insisted, almost desperately. "Everyone does. You're the firstborn, perhaps the throne of Asgard?"

Thor finally squawked in protest at the idea, only to be silenced by a glare from Loki.

I froze at the mention, memories of so desperately wanting that throne peeking through. Did I really want it now though? Maybe as a means to an end, perhaps. To get the forces necessary to demolish Thanos for good. I would have easy access to the Eternal Flame, command of the armies of Asgard, and make good on the oaths that the Golden Realm was supposed to have kept to defend the others of Yggdrasil.

I was well versed in the ways of war, and the Infinity War itself was on the horizon. It was my duty to use my knowledge to the best of my abilities and to prevent the Snap from claiming half the universe. And maybe somehow clean the blood off my hands while doing so.

"I believe that I do, dear younger brother Loki," I finally replied, pulling my hair into my helmet with a streak of magic, finishing my intimidating pose of royalty. "Our bargain will be the throne of Asgard in return for forgetting that little 'entrance incident' ever happened, or so help me I will stab you."


	2. Chapter 2 OLD, NOT REWRITTEN YET

The Bifrost roared as we were transported from Midgard- _Earth_, I corrected myself- to the golden gates of Asgard themselves. It was a shorter trip than I'd remembered, taking half the time since the last I'd been traveling through the rainbow bridge. Maybe it was the fact that it'd been rebuilt from scratch after the...incident?

At any rate, the thought of seeing Asgard again made my spirits raise more than slightly, of my throne that was mine and _only_ mine awaiting my return. Loki having hijacked that throne for a number of years made me feel a bit murderous, wanting to rend the fool limb from limb for even _daring-_

And then I recoiled again at the unnatural anger and homicidal rage that flared in reaction to the thought. I _didn't…_ I didn't want to hurt anyone again over such a stupid thing, not like all the Valkyries, and above all, my own little brother! Sweat broke out over my forehead as I squinted my eyes shut, biting my cheek deeply to chase all the murderous thoughts away.

Heh, Loki considered himself a monster? I truly was one, with the dozen civilizations worth of blood dripping from my swords of uru.

At any rate, I really didn't want to kill either Thor or the aforementioned God of Mischief. Especially by the way he had paled at the simple mention of Thanos himself.

…_"The Mad Titan?" Loki questioned, skin gaining a stark white pallor at the name, but quickly forced a smirk on his face. "You must be bluffing, dear sister Hela. And why in the Nine Realms should either of us join you on your ridiculously suicidal quest?"_

_Thor regained his composure, glancing back at the destruction I'd wrought with a slight shiver. "Brother, I don't believe we're in any position to argue. Besides," he added, "we ought to at least hear her out."_

_I shifted on my lithe feet, then decided that I couldn't stand any longer for what would undoubtedly be a long story. With a flick of my hands, I conjured a small seat of swords behind me, settling against the metal comfortably. "My imprisonment was less than willing, as you can imagine, but, during my captivity, the Norns granted me the mercy of seeing a vision of the future."_

_I mean, it was _basically _what happened. From a certain point of view._

_Loki narrowed his eyes and scoffed at me. "Dear sister, I think your time away has addled your brain. Do you expect us to believe something that absurd?"_

_Now a small smile crossed my face. "I had the pleasure of seeing a mortal Thor nearly constipate himself trying to lift Mjolnir." I giggled at the mental image._

_The prince in question glanced down at his hammer, letting out a light chuckle and relaxing. "Well, I believe her."_

_Loki cast a slight betrayed look in his brother's direction, turning back to me. "That proves nothing!" He squawked indignantly._

_I sobered slightly, sighing. "I also happen to know that...something happened, causing you to fall from the Bifrost. But it's not my place to delve into your personal reasons for doing so." _

_His whole body stiffened tellingly and his eyes narrowed to slivers, green orbs glaring. "Suppose that I believe you. What significance does this planet Sakaar have in the grand scheme of killing the Titan?"_

_"It has two people who'll be instrumental in his destruction. And…" I trailed off, gaze becoming distant, "of one of them, I have my own reasons."_

_Valkyrie…_

I was snapped out of my ruminations at a hand on my shoulder, once again Thor sending me a concerned look. The Hela in me raged at being pitied, of being seen as weak. I shoved her down in my mind violently, instead giving him a weak smile.

Around us crowded the friends of Thor and the new hefty gatekeeper, Skurge, all appearing startled. They drew their weapons on sight of me, settling into weary stances. Soft, not battered with constant battle and hardships at every turn.

I resisted the urge to meet them in kind, my own lean, muscular body hungry for the roar and adrenaline of a fight. Doing so wouldn't get me any favors, and my homicidal rage didn't even rear its ugly head. Just battlelust. Progress!

Thor stepped forwards, shielding both me and Loki with his outstretched hands. A warm feeling flickered in my chest for a moment, but went out as I remembered Father doing the same on occasion, when we began meeting with the delegations of other worlds to barter for peace. Did it mean anything?

"Friends!" The Thunderer bellowed, appropriately booming in the Bifrost hall. "We come in peace, you have nothing to fear. The woman with us is my sister, Hela, who was...confined at some mystical location for a length of time."

"And where is Odin?" questioned one, still brandishing his axe in a burly grip. "I thought you went to retrieve him, but instead you come back with a supposed sibling?"

"He has passed on to Valhalla, my friends," Thor announced sorrowfully, bowing his head in grief. "We were with our father as he died, and perhaps he took comfort in that his family was there in his finally moments."

The ones Odin _maybe_ loved, at any rate. It was kind if hard to tell with all the horrible parenting we were all subject to, especially in those grand "final moments", where instead of telling Thor and Loki all this pertinent information _years in advance_ chose to wait until he literally had five minutes to live.

_"Oh, I'll just exposite at them and dump all my horrible decisions on my sons!" Odin probably thought gleefully. "I'm sure they can fix my problem, preferably through violence! Because that just __**ALWAYS**_ _worked so well!"_

_And then the old man just twinkles away into the wind like freaking Santa Claus, beard and everything. Thanks for the GREAT present, Allfather Christmas!_

The rage was almost a wild animal writhing within my skin, reinforced by the seidr and adrenaline surging inside my veins. It wanted to be let free, but I had to keep it bottled up and away and _oh Norns my skin looked like it was literally steaming._ Faint vapor curled away from reddening skin.

Was I so mad I was literally spouting steam? Magic makes no sense, if that was what was even going on. Even my Asgardian memories we're of no help, particularly since Hela was a warrior, not a scholar or physician.

A sudden _shink_ made me look down in surprise to see some small swords jutting from the ground around my feet. They vanished almost as soon as they'd appeared, and everyone looked at me strangely and, if possible, even more wearily.

I froze at their stares, mind stuttering inside behind my veil of black hair. Thankfully, the other green royal in the room stepped up to the task. Their glares pulled off of me and redirected at Loki, burning holes in his head.

"I'm afraid our dear sister has had an absurdly taxing day, everyone," he said smoothly, that famous silver tongue back in gear. "If I may, I'd like to escort her to a guest quarters to rest her little head. And Thor," Loki smiled at him, "you look a little sluggish yourself."

And then with a rush and a pop of green seidr, we were deposited in a clean white bedroom, but decorated with that classic Asgardian style. Another pop sounded Loki's fast exit. I stared numbly at the bed in front of me, emotionally and mentally frozen.

Then I caught sight of a painting of Mother on the wall, and the walls keeping everything in shattered. Great big, ugly sobs shook my form as I collapsed into the soft sheets and pillows. I wanted my Mother. I wanted my mom and my dad and my precious Chiba Inu, except for I _couldn't _because either they were dead or I was dead, so it made it equally impossible to do either.

I wouldn't see any of them again. All I had was a pair of formerly fictional brothers who, like me, had no idea how to interact with the other. One of them could probably secretly hate me, for taking Father away or something.

It all just sort of fumbled in my head and addled my thoughts until I couldn't think, only cry softly into the pillow I was grasping like it was a lifeline. What I wouldn't give for one if those stupid anime body pillows right about now.

I didn't even bother changing into nightclothes as I further burrowed into the bed for some ounce of comfort, undoubtedly dirtying the pristine white material. Somehow fitting, since I was essentially the stain on the golden peace and prosperity of Asgard, of that forgotten age of expansion. A smudge of blood that could never be wiped away, similar to the blood on my hands.

I fell asleep to nightmares of the screams of the Valkyrie legions and their blood pooling at my feet. And then it wasn't only them, but the faces of my brothers, my father and mother, of my human family. They were all slaughtered like helpless cattle, pleading for mercy at my hands. My crazed grin grew wide and I laughed as my sword pierced a vital artery on the hip of my mom, and within seconds she was a lifeless corpse sprawled before me.

Loki and Thor's heads rolled and stopped at my feet, expressions frozen in pure terror in death. I enjoyed it. I enjoyed it enjoyed it enjoyed it enjoyed it enjoyed it enjoyed it enjoyed it enjoyed it enjoyed it enjoyed it enjoyed it enjoyed it enjoyed it enjoyed it enjoyed it-

Until Loki's head asked, "Sister?"

And I snapped awake on the floor of my bed chambers, writhing in my own sheets and my youngest brother above me. I stared up at him, confused and completely exhausted.

"What do you want?" I asked tiredly, eyes half-lidded. "If you want to spring a surprise attack, this is a rather poor attempt."

Loki gazed at me with another of those haunted looks in his eyes before it fled like a dream. "Thor sent me to check up on you. He was concerned by the screams."

_And so was I _went unsaid, but I could tell he was feeling it anyway.

"Nightmare. Run of the mill terrible dream." I bared my teeth at him groggily. "Now run off before I stab you."

"Duly noted. I presume there was nothing...too graphic, such as a Valkyrie slaughter?"

Suddenly I was fully awake, staring down at my hands. "Who found the fresco?"

"Thor was throwing a tantrum in the throne room about Odin not telling us about you and accidentally hit the ceiling. We have much to discuss."

A pit grew in my stomach and swallowed my hammering heart, becoming more and more nauseous with every beat. They knew I was a monster now. They would think I regretted none of it, they wouldn't listen, _Thanos would win and everything would be my fault._

I gingerly rose from my heap and looked down at the floor. "Let's go then, I mumbled, slipping past the guards of my room to follow the departing Loki.

My hands clenched and drove crescents into my palms as we set foot in the throne room, chunks of plaster and rock scattered everywhere. I gulped and set my gaze above at the very fresco that now doomed me, still vibrant and exuding that air of conquest and supremacy. I wanted to puke at the aura. And right on _my- _the throne sat Thor, looking extremely troubled.

"Is it true, sister?"


End file.
